How do you measure a year?

July 30, 2015

It has been a year since I moved to Ireland, and oh how much has changed.

I didn’t realise it until yesterday, Rachael and I were walking to brunch and the crisp almost-autmn breeze brought back memories of my first week in Ireland, and along with it all the emotions I had felt; the excitement of my relationship, anticipation of my Masters, the thrill of possibility.

Now one year on how do I feel?  I feel older, more mature, and realistic.

This year started starry eyed and in love, and ended mending a hurting heart with the realisation that sometimes we give others attributes they don’t actually posses themselves.  We do this because we want to believe in love, believe that we have found ‘the one’.  But we have to be able to look at people as they are, and take them as they are.  I care deeply for the person I was in a relationship with a year ago, I enjoyed the time we spent together, we always got on very well.  But I also know I can no longer be in relationships where I have to compromise the big things, and this is not just about that relationship, but all the romances I have had.  I want to be with someone who puts in as much as they get, who is caring and sees in me all the value and love I have to offer.  I don’t want and shouldn’t have to convince someone to be with me, or of how great I am.  Because frankly I think I am bloody awesome, weird and nerdy maybe, but I am loving, caring and thoughtful, I am intelligent and have so many goals and aspirations and I want someone who sees that and wants to adventure through life with me.

This year also started with a plan. And as I am apparently to repeatedly learn, my plans never work out… and that is okay! Because what comes out of it is oftentimes so much more beautiful and raw then I could have even imagined for myself.

I have met some really incredible people this year, friends that I know will be a part of the rest of my life.  I think I have also started to learn the real value of friendship and not just the superficial one we get from Facebook. I want to know that the people I do life with and the things I choose to spend my time doing are really things I truly enjoy, and not just a show for some imagined audience I don’t even care about.  There is something rather liberating in watching a sunset or eating a meal and not sharing it with the world, not posting about it on Facebook or Instagram.  Yeah no one will know you did those things, but that is the point.  It is now an intimate moment shared with just you, or a friend, or a lover, and that is precious. real.

I didn’t realise how attached I had become to this virtual world until I took a step back from it, and had the crushing realisation that I don’t even know what makes me happy anymore.  Where I want to be or what I want to do.  I have not been living my own life, and that is a problem.  Even writing on here now makes me a bit uneasy, but this has always been a place of release for me, so for now I think it is okay.

All I know is I am tired of living my life for other people, for how I think they will think about me if I do one thing over another.  I want to make decisions that are right for me, and that is what I intend to do.

More about Erica

My name is Erica, I am a creative designer, free-spirit, and all-around dirtbag. Heart of the Nomad is a place for creativity, nature, and random musings. I write about life, share my husband's and my photography business, and my designs. Grab a cup of tea and enjoy!

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